


Just a Kingdom To the West

by Hester_Of_Ravenswood



Category: The School for Good and Evil - Soman Chainani
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:54:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21843259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hester_Of_Ravenswood/pseuds/Hester_Of_Ravenswood
Summary: Instead of being born in Woods Beyond, Nicola is the heir to the throne of a kingdom to the west known as Wolfsbane. She's taken at the same time as Agatha and Sophie! How will this effect their story?!
Relationships: Agatha/Tedros (The School for Good and Evil), Anadil/Hester (The School for Good and Evil), Nicola/Sophie (The School for Good and Evil)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

Nicola pulled her large bag along behind her, now fully aware of the vast amount of books within its depths and how exceedingly heavy they were. But that was of no importance, as she was finally here. She had waited every day of her fifteen years on this world to get to the School for Good and Evil, and she was there.

This was the apex of her life, the peak of her entire life's plans. She was to become a leader, graduate with honors, and go home to her family with the ability to inherit the throne, despite being a female.

Since she was born, her parents had groomed her for this position as heiress. Unlike other pirncesses her age, she grew up with books and swords, the world's leading political thinkers and knights teaching her from the cradle. She was not a princess, in her eyes. She was an accomplished swordsman (the first female to be accepted into the school's swordmanship class), a cunning and calculating leader, and, most importantly, the heir to the throne of Wolfsbane.

Her tugged at the pink dress she had on, feeling awkward in the cloth. But that didn't matter. She could change her wardrobe before the opening ceremonies.

Across the bridge, in Nicola's sister school, a young blond haired Never dreamed of a dashing prince saving her from the clutches of villainy. A prince that could save her and would whisk her away to their castle far, far away from the terrible home that she had once been ignored and unloved in.

Unbeknownst to the teenagers, a blank storybook had already been thrown from the shelf, a pen quivering in excitement above it, itching to tell the story of two sisters, a prince, and an unsuspecting heir.


	2. Chapter 2

Life is funny, sometimes. Although, life's humor is far different from the humor that humans usually enjoy.

Life is ironic and cruel, the kind of person that would laugh at someone else falling down fifteen flights of stairs while everyone else wondered if the poor sap was still alive (they likely weren't).

And so life, in all its great mystery, had decided to play with the fates.

In two sister schools sat two sisters, perhaps no more than a mile apart, yet miles of acres were between their thoughts.

Agatha dreamed of a safe trip home, to whisk her friend from this danger and never look back.

Sophie prayed for the fairy tale ending, with the prince and the castle, to become the princess she had always believed she was.

One of these things would be fulfilled, though not with the girl who wished for it.

-

Nicola was a practical girl. And, as such, she was not a flamboyant person. This was why she had decided that, for the opening ceremonies at least, she would be wearing a helmet to hide her gender. Not that she was ashamed, as she was in no way shape or form. She only wished for a fair fight from her classmates, and perhaps, deep down, a chance to embarrass them all. What? She was allowed to be petty, and she took advantage of that liberty as much as possible.

The helmet was stuffy and impractical, certainly more of a hindrance than a help in a battle, but it was clean and sturdy, which was enough for this occasion.

She wouldn't stand out too much from the other princes, she was sure. Perhaps a bit shorter, though not too much so, and slimmer, but nobody would be paying close enough attention to tell such things.

Unlike the other princesses, she was not in the mass of gawking girls and chatting Nevers. Instead, she was in a mass of sweaty, annoying princes that were trying their best to intimidate one another before they were forced to fight.

She could tell by their body language that all but a few of these boys were just talk, and she made mental note of the remaining threats. Her main enemy was going to be, obviously, Tedros of Camelot, who was likely the only person in this whole school with more practice with the sword than she. Not to mention the fact that he had Excalibur, which he crudely brandished like a slab of meat.

On second thought, he might not be much of an issue. All brawn, no brain. That was Nicola's favorite type of opponent.

Just then, there was a shrill whistle that echoed through the small hall, causing the boys to leap into motion, jostling one another as they hurried to be first into the opening ceremony.

Nicola waited for a moment before she made her move, confident that at least an eighth of her competition would be dealt with before she had entered the ceremonies.

Those thirty seconds made the difference between unmanageable chaos, and manageable chaos.

When she stepped into the crowded room, a self-assured smirk grew on her lips.

-

Sophie was desperately trying to located Agatha and switch clothes with her.

But the sound of boots caused her to become very distracted by something far more important.

Boys.

But not just any boys.

Princes.

Something that she certainly didn't get to see in person back in her small little village in the woods.

Now seemed like the perfect time to choose which one she would dig her claws into. Meaning which one she would make fall in love with her and her with him for all of eternity, just as she was supposed to.

A princess with a prince.

Not a princess and a witch, like her and Agatha. That just wasn't a satisfying ending, now was it?

As the princes burst into the room, the ringing of metal on metal accompanied them, making Sophie grin broadly.

There were princes, some of which might be shirtless, that were sword fighting just a little ways away. This is what she'd been literally dreaming of for years!

But her gaze was drawn from the boys that fell, pretend dead, and those that held center stage to a somewhat smaller form that strode into the makeshift arena like a gladiator.

He stepped with a steady pace, though he didn't seem to walk, but more flow with a deadly grace that carried him toward his first opponent. A sword swung toward the mystery boy, but metal rising faster than the eye could follow stopped its path toward his helmet.

The mystery boy, who Sophie was dying to see take off his helmet already, flicked his wrist almost effortless, causing the other prince's sword to go flying from his grasp and clashing against the ground with a clatter that Sophie could hear ring throughout the room.

As if the sound had been a siren's call, the other princes turned on the mysterious man, their swords seeming to drawn toward him like metal to a magnet.

Just as easily as the first, the prince disarmed schoolmate after schoolmate. Sophie wondered if he had a gloating smirk behind his mask, or if he was simply bored with the amateurs he had been forced to fight when, clearly, his time could have been spent elsewhere doing something far more interesting.

There was another boy that entered noticeably after the other princes, this one with a flourish of a shiny sword and a dramatic leap into the fray, but Sophie barely registered his appearance.

Her attention was stolen by a far more intriguing fighter, even if he was slightly less skilled.

As the mystery boy fought his fellow skilled classmate, Sophie found that, for once, she didn't care if he was the second most skilled fighter. She hadn't seen his face, hadn't heard his name, and knew next to nothing about the young prince, but one thing was certain. This one was going to be hers.

Sophie didn't care that his sword was, finally after a long and arduous struggle, flung from his hand, nor that her best friend had finally found her and was struggling to gain her attention. Because the prince was holding a rose aloft in one delicate hand that Sophie could imagine one day grasping her own. It was calloused, it had to be some such experience with the sword, but she swore it looked softer than any of the other boys up there. The idea made her smile grow and her heart, for once, thump faster in her chest. This was the prince she had dreamed of, and she was sure of it. He flung the rose into the air almost haphazardly, as if not caring where it landed. It floated on the slight draft in the lofty room, carrying it down an odd journey that caused it to swoop above and under the grabby hands of many a princess that vied for its attention. It landed suddenly and improbably in Sophie's outstretched hand. Sophie had been prepared to fight princesses and witches alike, to leap over rows of seats and their occupants to catch the small flower, but it had landed within her palm almost effortlessly, as if drawn to her.

Sophie was so distracted that she didn't even notice the strapping young prince beside her own that had thrown his own. It had arched toward her as well, but changed trajectory at t he last possible moment and struck a very unsuspecting Agatha square in the face, making the prince recoil in shock and horror.

But before Sophie could completely soak in the experience, could finish imagining her wedding and future in the mystery prince's far away kingdom, he took off his helmet.

And for a singular, blissful moment, that was perfect.

Locks of caramel brown were flung as he shook his head, making the only slightly tangled hairs fall almost into place. The prince ran a hand through it, fixing the small imperfections in placement, which made Sophie's eyes widen, attempting to take in the entirety of the mental image. He was smiling, grinning really, as his hazel eyes shot around the room, landing on Sophie and the rose for a fraction of a second, taking her in quickly.

Sophie couldn't have been happier. Not only was he a prince that was near an expert with the sword, but he was also handsome?! She couldn't believe it.

And she had caught his rose!

But the moment ended, as all good things eventually do, and Sophie suddenly took notice of the gasps of shock and horror as princesses, princes, and Nevers alike started to realize something that Sophie herself had remained blissfully ignorant of.

Until now.

"He's a girl!" a voice cried, carrying throughout the room.

It not only broke the strained question that hung in the air, but also Sophie's chipper mood.

He... she... was a what now?

-

Nicola rolled her eyes at her shocked schoolmates, hurrying toward a seat that was unoccupied.

Her gaze flickered to the blond Never for a short second, wondering how the girl had gotten her rose (which Nicola honestly hadn't even wanted to throw because it was an overused and slightly sexist tradition), but she forced her mind away from the girl with ease.

Nicola saw another form slide into the seat beside her, making her jump slightly in surprise.

"This seat isn't taken, is it?" a slightly frustrated voice asked her.

Nicola's eyes fell on a princess that looked quite out of place in this crowd, what with her clumps and large, bug eyes.

She shook her head, giving the other girl a small smile.

The black-haired princess seemed surprised, but met it with her own, though it was rather awkward looking (if not downright witchy). But that didn't bother Nicola. She wasn't exactly a typical princess either, in case you couldn't tell.

A few seats away, a prince was having much different thoughts about the darkly dressed girl. Namely that she should be over with her Never kind and the blond "Never" he'd seen should be over here. Also, how had she managed to catch his rose? He had been aiming for the blond anyways... Perhaps it was some sort of spell. That would make sense!

Before he could continue thinking about it, he was distracted by a large two-headed dog taking the stage. Because, honestly, who wouldn't be distracted by that? Only one girl, who was still having a panic attack about a prince turned princess.

-

Sophie didn't hear a word that the two-headed dog had said. And, honestly, she couldn't care less about that. There were only three things that mattered right now.

One, get into her rightful place in the School for Good.

Two, forget about that completely normal and explainable incident that happened with the princess/prince that she would never speak of again until the day she died and then some.

Three, find a new prince which could whisk her away to their new kingdom where they could live out their happily ever after in peace.

But it all started with step one.

She had to switch with Agatha, and soon.

Because the prince that had won the entire sword fighting competition kept giving her sideways and confused glances. And he was now going to be the prince from step three.

Yes, everything was perfectly fine and in control.

Step one and step three would be handled soon.

Now she just had to focus on the second one.

Or, more accurately, forget that she had ever needed a step two.

-

Nicola ignored the large amounts of both princesses and princes that were giving her dirty looks for her earlier deception. She was used to being an outcast, and she certainly preferred that over the excitable crowd that was surrounding Tedros at the moment.

Besides, she was pretty sure she'd found the only princess worth getting to know in this entire school already.


End file.
